


In Between

by thewinterspy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow, F/M, implied future relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinterspy/pseuds/thewinterspy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly visits Sherlock when he returns to the hospital, after the Watsons' squabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Between

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was "Things you said with no space in between us", and I'd like to give a shoutout to mollymatterrs on tumblr for prompting - and this was originally gonna be way more shippy, but it was during canon and I always feel iffy about going shippy on the canon timeline - so this is more of an implied "something more".
> 
> I'm #SherlollyForS4 af.

His voice could be like a hot iron sometimes. Even the most inconsequential things - a conclusion at the end of a case, his coffee order, the way he tells her “I’m fine” that makes her believe he’s not - are burned into her memory, so vivid that the excitement, the anger, the sorrow, all comes rushing back. It’s enough to make anyone’s heart ache. Molly rubs at her chest, feeling it physically as she remembers his voice, lashing out just as she did.

 

_“Sorry your engagement’s over.”_

 

It’s funny… she should be hurting over Tom, and here she is, still fighting through the swamp of emotions that Sherlock bloody Holmes put her through. She shouldn’t be thinking about him - but the idiot decided to escape the hospital. Friends are allowed to worry about friends. Even if she’s tired of being one for him. God, she’s just tired, just so tired. A dramatic thought occurs to her, some idea about picking up and leaving - there’s nothing here for her, she’s clinging to things she doesn’t have - but she knows how absurd it is. She’s been spending too much time with the dramatic ponce lying in the bed she’s sitting next to.

 

Molly gives a long sigh, and lowers her hands to see him looking back at her. She can tell he’s still hasn’t slept off all the anesthesia, by the blurry focus in his eyes and the almost lazy smile that curls on his lips.

 

She returns the smile nonetheless, and takes his closer hand in both of hers.

 

“Took you long enough,” she says, barely even a whisper, but the hospital has gotten so quiet that her voice rings, “John and Mary have been sitting out in the waiting room, waiting. Well-”

 

Molly winces, about to close her eyes and shake her head, but Sherlock chuffs like a tiger, the best laugh he could manage in his condition. It startles a giggle out of Molly. Her grip shifts on his hand as she asks, “How’re you feeling?”

 

“Better,” he replies, his voice stronger than she assumed. His thumb escapes from underneath her palm, slowly curling around to hold her in return, “I don’t suppose…”

 

“I can go get them now, whichever one you prefer-” Molly says, about to get up, but Sherlock continues to slowly, patiently weave his fingers out of her grip, intertwining with her fingers until there’s no space in between their palms.

 

“Don’t suppose you’ll stay?” he finishes. Molly stops moving, air stuck in her throat. The lingering tone in the question is so uncertain, so unsure of the answer she’ll give him in return.

 

“Only… if you want me to.”

 

“Yes,” Sherlock tells her. He must be exhausted, with his eyes already fluttering, “I’ll be better.”

 

Molly’s frowns at that, “Are you still hurt, you can get more pain medi-”

 

Sherlock’s hand squeezes hers softly, just he gives a small laugh.

 

“Better. For you.”

 

He’s on the pain meds, she tells herself, refusing to believe her ears. His voice keeps her from leaving though, stops her knees from straightening and tightens their hold on each other.

 

“Sherlock-?”

 

“Just stay. I’m not…” he sniffs, cutting himself off. His brow tightens as he shifts in the bed, and he sucks in a sharp inhale, “Don’t go back to Tom.”

 

“I’m not. I won’t,” Molly promises him, her heart hammering in her throat. What does this mean? What does he mean?

 

“I’ll be better. Keep you safe.” He looks at her, and her eyes must be playing tricks, but the gaze directed at her looks crystal clear. “I’ll keep you safe, Molly. Then we’ll see.”

 

“Then we’ll see-?” she repeats numbly, leaning forward in anticipation. Sherlock smiles again, and he looks ready to give her an answer, but his eyes finally close, and he’s asleep again.

—


End file.
